


Plata O Plomo

by orphan_account



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Coping, Death, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Murder, Rescue, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 20:36:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15714642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Chloe finds out where Rachel is being held. She makes him pay for taking her, but is she prepared for the consequences of her actions?





	Plata O Plomo

Five. Four. Two. Click.

The little Prescott must have been honest. Well in that case, he may be spared, at least from having this barrel pointed at his head. 

Frank had been exceptionally quick with the delivery, just a simple shotgun. He did open his mouth to ask the looming question, but apart from the obvious facial features, he had not been sure whether he had made a deal with the long deceased Pablo Escobar or the more local Chloe Price, so he had just accepted the payment and in an act of wisdom, he had directed his attention back to his plate of beans. 

She would hunt the bastard down, and then she would... 

No, first things first. According to Nathan, _she_ was still alive. The only reason she had not choked the Prescott to death on the spot, was because he had come to her of his own accord, and readily told her everything. How they drugged her, what they used her for, that this Mark Jeffer...shit type had been the driving force behind this little "photography project". Yes, she had turned into a fury, and punched the living shit out of his rich-ass face, but without him, she'd have never found out where Rachel was holed up. So she left it with a couple of renovations to his jawline, and even agreed to not mention his name to anybody. 

There would be no names to mention after she was done, anyway. 

Chloe pushed the heavy door open. Loud jazz music blared her way. At least her entry would remain undetected that way. _Just pray that Rachel is still alive_ , Chloe thought, the rest did not matter. Just a rescue mission before the _real hunt_ was on. She almost looked forward to it, gripping the metal instrument in her hands tighter. 

Shelves with supplies surrounded her, as if she had stepped into David's garage. It made her sick to her stomach to remember how he had just... taken the place and had silently declared it as his own. A weird chord progression from the jazz piece brought her back into the present. Who the hell listened to that kind of music anyway? David was off her list for now. Chloe had far bigger fish to fry. 

Apparently this bunker was originally supposed to be an emergency hideout for a natural disaster, or even a war. How convenient that it looked like just a fucking abandoned barn on the outside. Just perfect to hold innocent people like puppets lined up to stand through and endure any amount of disgusting kinks, until they would break down from exhaustion, or otherwise. 

Chloe almost prayed, that Rachel had not been abused in other ways Nathan had told her about as well. 

The entrance had been covered by hay, and without Nathan's description she wouldn't have found this room at all. That was the little difference between her and the famous Colombian drug lord. If Nathan would not cross her path in the future, she would not look to break his legs either, even though he had admitted to have spiked the drink, which had allowed the sicko he called a mentor to bring her girl here. Had it been Olympian resolve, or just the moment of shock that kept her from murdering the little worm? She was not sure, and did not care enough to reflect on it further. 

He should be just so fucking glad that Chloe had felt generous in that very moment. 

The room continued to extend to the left. A couple of pictures hung on the wall past the transparent curtain. Extreme black and white photography. Maybe Chloe would have actually enjoyed this particular style, if she did not know how the pictures had most likely come to be. She felt like gagging and bringing her lunch back up to the surface, but she reminded herself, that she had to stay vigilant, so she kept scouting the place. 

The room was only dimly lit, however more light came in from the left, where the place extended even further. Chloe walked on. She had not spotted her girl yet. Impatiently, she fidgeted with the little notch on the wooden stock of the firearm. Rachel had to be somewhere here. She just _had_ to be! 

And there she was, lying on the ground in some pose, illuminated by bright spotlights. 

She had company. 

 _Oh you motherfucker!_  

A tunnel enveloped Chloe's sight. She did not even think about anything witty, or hurtful to say. All she could see was this sickening piece of trash fumbling with a little vial and a syringe right next to Rachel. He was mumbling something, but be it because of the loud music, the fact that he had his back turned to Chloe, or that her frenzied brain didn't really care for it, she did not hear any of it. 

The distance to the white canvas served as a run-up, which culminated in the heel of Chloe's boot to be buried in Jefferson's back. He cried out and fell over in pain, dropping the syringe and the vial, which rolled away from him. He rolled around onto his back, but only to look right into the barrels of Chloe's shotgun. As if he had forgotten the pain, he suddenly scooted backwards on his butt, until he collided with the white wall of the canvassed area. He put his hands up and kept saying something, but Chloe could only see his lips move. The music covered up everything. 

A loud bang sounded, then there was only silence. The music had stopped. The bastard's eyes almost fell out in shock. 

"Are you aware of what you've done? And what this means to you?" Chloe turned around from shooting the source of music, "Asshole." she added. 

"I-I...," The pathetic worm was squirming, "I... shit..." 

"Tell me one thing," Chloe was so done with everything, she was fuming, "Why!" 

Everything ceased to exist around Chloe. Only her, the shotgun and Mark Jefferson were still left in her field of view. An elusive tranquillity spread through her body, as if she had been blessed with infinite patience for the moment. 

Apparently, the same sanctification had come down upon the photographer. He started to smirk, almost pitiful, having gained confidence in a matter of seconds. "The means of art cannot always be put into words," he said smugly, "Pictures, however, speak a language with a vocabulary so rich, that we can capture moments, which would otherwise be left indescribable," he even had the audacity to huff out a slight chuckle. "I'm sure you would see it, too, if only I showed you how..." 

 _So fucking done with this shit!_  

Another blast filled the room, silencing the voice. Countless holes appeared in the expensive suit of the teacher. He collapsed backwards, gasping for air. Chloe felt like a bull looking at a red, fluttering piece of cloth. She threw the empty weapon aside and jumped onto Jefferson's face. Never had she been so mad, so frenzied in her life. Her boot stomped down, once, twice, she did not count how often she had brought the boot down with full force, before pieces of skull and other red matter laid splattered around the impact area. A bloody mess. She was roaring, yelling in fury. Her whole body shook, she bared her clenched teeth like a predator. The world turned into shades of red. Finishing the act of vengeance did not make the anger go away, but it brought her a sense of justice. No remorse. No regret. Chloe's boot shone in a vibrant, yet disgusting red. 

 _And on your way out you also ruined my favourite pair of boots, good fucking job, shithead! Good! Fucking! Job!_  

She stepped off the remains of a face, kicking the rest of the body one last time. She wondered if she should grab some gasoline and burn this entire place down, but something ripped her out of her maddened train of thought. A whimper, which she would have heard through a pack of lions roaring, brought her back to reality. Jefferson was as dead as it got, he did not matter anymore. Chloe turned around and stormed towards Rachel, staining the white canvas with her boot. Rachel had somehow managed to turn around, and must have witnessed Chloe's murderous fit of rage. Chloe really wished Rachel had not turned around. 

"Rachel! Baby, I'm here!" Chloe wrapped her arms around her girl and lifted her up, pulling her into a full embrace. Rachel did not respond with any movement, laying halfway limp in Chloe's arms, but she was shaking like an earthquake. Chloe could feel the remains of adrenaline rushing through her own body. The contact though, the familiar smell, even if it was mixed with some clinical stench, they helped a great deal to stay calm. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, holding Rachel close. The skin was so cold. She stroked over her arm, repeatedly, a futile attempt to warm it back up again. 

"I hope you did not see too much of this. I'm...," Rachel was staring past Chloe onto Jefferson's mutilated corpse. Chloe moved back, grabbing Rachel's head by the sides, softly, and put her own head in between Rachel and the messy picture, locking the hazel eyes into her own. Their foreheads touched. 

"Let's get you out of here, alright? You've been down here for far too long." 

Almost six months according to Nathan, and it showed. She had lost so much weight, turned into a pile of skin and bones. Bruises and dark spots were  scattered along her wrists and shoulders. It didn't help that she was wearing next to nothing. A black, lousy top and some boxers. _This bastard._ Chloe was almost afraid to break her, but she remembered Rachel had always been a tough one. She had been stabbed and survived it. She would survive this torture trip, too. Especially because it would come to an end, right here, right now. 

She promised her. 

Rachel just stared, not at Chloe, not at the surroundings, just stared. Aside from the shaking and shallow breaths, she did not do anything else, nothing to even acknowledge Chloe's presence. Chloe did not want to know what Rachel had been drugged with, and truly hoped, that Rachel's unresponsiveness came from the substance, not from something much more severe. 

"It's over. I hope you can hear me, Rach. Let me pick you up and get you to my truck. We're outta here!" 

* * *

It had been no use to strap Rachel in, she just kept falling over limply, even though she was obviously awake, so Chloe had just laid her across the seats. There she was, wrapped in a rainbow coloured blanket Chloe had kept under the seats, her head in Chloe's lap. The speed they were approaching Arcadia Bay with was slow, Chloe was too worked up with the events to rush, she also did not want to shake Rachel's drained body around. The girl needed some rest, and Chloe was more than happy to provide her with the luxury. 

Rachel had finally closed her eyes at some point during the ride. Chloe's fingers were buried in Rachel's messed up hair, caressing her scalp, slowly and calmly. The anger still wrenched Chloe's gut in all directions, throbbing, and almost making her blood boil, but the fact that Rachel was here, right next to her, and that it was absolutely real, gave her a medium to ground herself on. 

She was getting too tired to explode over and over. 

The first houses appeared on the roadside. She passed some pedestrians. _Funny_ , she thought, they would never know that a murderer was right here next to them. Whether Jefferson had deserved it or not, knowing that she had actually ended a life with her own hands, and in such a violent way as well, it felt like a compactor was squeezing her guts. Puking felt appropriate. 

She looked down at the resting head in her lap, and restrained herself. 

The blood stained boots, she had thrown them away at the barn, along with the shotgun. Sure, it had cost her a fortune, but she'd rather not hold onto any memento, reminding her of the worst day in her life. And yes, she had thought that the day her father died would stay the most terrible experience she ever had to go through, but having the... autopilot take over her mind, driving her into a murder frenzy... She should have just kicked him out cold, then called the police or something. Actually, it would have all been half as bad, but for some reason Rachel had turned around, and seen the act, the stomping, the lack of restraint. Chloe did not feel remorse or guilt. 

Chloe felt ashamed. 

* * *

_At 17 had a better dream_

_Now I'm 33 and it isn't me_

_But I'd think of something better if I could_  

***

Yeah, they both had a better dream two years ago. At least they got the chance to change the course over the next fourteen years now. Max would have loved the song that sounded from the cheap speakers in the doors. That damn hipster probably lived the life of her dreams up in Seattle. 

Out of here. Out of this place. 

Suddenly, Chloe doubted she could look anybody in this town in the eye again. Her father would be so disappointed in her, if he was alive. She dreaded falling asleep already, seeing him again. Her mother, as much as they had been constantly fighting for about four years now, she did not deserve to live with the knowledge, that her daughter was a violent killer. They were passing the two-whales diner and the view almost choked her from the inside. She had to restrain herself again, not to squeeze Rachel's scalp and dig her nails in. She did not want to wake her up, she needed some rest. Peaceful rest. 

 _Fuck that!_  

How was that supposed to work? She had gotten Rachel out of that sick dungeon, didn't she? The girl had to suffer from shit knows what! Chloe did not even want to know the details to be honest, even though she was sure that at some point she had to endure that particular talk. For her, she had to. 

She resorted to angry huffing and threw the finished cigarette out of the window. The fucker had deserved every single pellet to his chest, every single stomp to his egghead. What would the police do? What would the court do? Give him a trial? Make Rachel see him again in the lawsuit? This piece of trash did not deserve any justice. Everything happened as it should have happened. Now he would rot, all by himself in an abandoned bunker worth more than a million bucks. He should be damn happy to have such an extravagant grave. Chloe felt like she had been way too generous to both of them, both, including Nathan, but she had had enough of the whole deal. It was time to close this chapter and start a new one. She forced herself to calm down, then leaned down and gave the sleeping Rachel a soft kiss on her neck. 

She had her back. From here, everything would be manageable, wouldn't it? 

Would it be so easy to close the chapter? Would the murderous Chloe stay down? She turned the truck onto the dirt road towards the junkyard. Then something in her lap started to shuffle. 

"Mmmm... No... I can't anymore... Please..." 

Chloe almost slammed the brakes, but managed to stop the truck gently in the last moment. "Hey, Rachel. It's me, Chloe. It's all over now," she said, grabbing Rachel's hand and holding it. "I promise," she added. 

The overwhelming urge to grab Rachel and squeeze her surged through her body, but she kept it down. Where had that restraint been before Jefferson? Why did she turn into an animal so readily back then? She shook the thought off and focused on the awakening girl in her lap. This was not the time. 

Struggling eyes scanned their surroundings, then settled onto Chloe. "Is this... another dream?" The other hand sensed through the punk's face, tracing jaw lines and cheeks. Chloe had been so touch-starved, that this weak contact sent fireworks through her skin. She smiled, covering Rachel's hand, careful not to disturb her probing. 

"This one will last, I promise," Chloe said. 

"Where am I?" Rachel asked. 

"In my truck on my lap, you dingus," Chloe said, chuckling. Rachel did not laugh back.

 _Way too soon, Chloe._  

"That, and far away from this shithole they've kept you in," she added, far more serious and empathic, "Are you alright?" 

Rachel closed her eyes, shaking her head. Worry manifested on Chloe's face, her mouth slightly open. Should she turn around? Bring her to a hospital? _Stupid Chloe!_ She should have gone there from the start. She had almost started turning the wheel around, when Rachel's voice sounded again. 

"I'm not, but I'll manage, now that you're finally real," Rachel was smiling for the first time, weakly and drained, but genuine, then she dropped her arm, stroking over Chloe's, "Are you though?" she asked. 

 _What?_  

Chloe wasn't sure she heard right. Six months of being trapped in an underground bunker, and the first thing Rachel was worried about is Chloe's condition? "Hey, don't worry about me," Chloe said, smiling compassionately, "You've been the one that had to deal with..." 

"I saw how you... went off," Rachel said, silencing Chloe, "It was all blurry but... it wasn't pretty." 

There was that shame again. Chloe took her eyes off Rachel, unable to look at her. Right, that had been bad. She should finish this conversation off, turn around, bring Rachel to a hospital, then never show her face around here ever again. What had she been thinking? She should have really focused on just getting Rachel out. Now it was too late to change things. 

Everything she touched, she fucked up. As always. 

"I'm sorry, Rachel. No excuses," she said, still not having the courage to look at her, "let me just drop you by the hospital, then you don't have to see my bloodthirsty face ever again. Now that I know for sure that you're alive, I...," Chloe forced herself to look down, "I can get some sleep at least." 

Rachel tried to get up, but twisted her face in agony. Her body did not  completely obey her yet without protesting. Chloe tried imagining an insane hangover. It helped empathising and in turn, she felt really bad for her. She helped her up and started guiding her onto the seat, but Rachel did not follow her lead, leaning forward instead, and fell into an embrace around Chloe's neck. 

"I'm never going to forgive you, if you leave me behind like that," Rachel nuzzled her neck, "Didn't that happen to you before? I think you told me about some friend of yours." 

Max. Now that Chloe knew first hand how _real_ rage and anger felt, she couldn't claim that she was mad at Max anymore. Disappointment, frustration, yes, but not anger. She couldn't imagine herself fighting with her childhood friend in a fierce fashion at all. This was a fight she was keen on passing up. 

"Honestly, I did forgive her," Chloe said, "It got hella exhausting to be mad." 

"But did you ever forget?" 

 _No._  

"Rachel... fuck... I can't handle so much at once," Chloe dropped her head into Rachel's shoulder, "How do you manage to be so well adjusted? Aren't you supposed to be...?" 

Rachel removed herself from Chloe. She held herself in place by Chloe's shoulders, digging her fingers deep, obviously struggling to keep the balance. She managed though with the extra effort and looked at Chloe from an arm's distance. Chloe ignored the pain. "Are you saying I should play the damsel in distress like a good girl and be a fragile piece of shit?" Rachel looked upset through her exhausted face. 

 _I'm just trash._  

Chloe opened her mouth. "I... Uh... Sor..." 

Rachel put a finger across Chloe's lips, dropping the hint of irritation off her face again. "Let's have this talk another time, okay?" she said, going back to her tired self, "Right now, I'm riding this rush, finally seeing you again," she took the finger off Chloe's mouth to trace the lines on her face again, softly, "Could I just have that, please?" 

Chloe did not dare to take her eyes off Rachel's, or say any word, for it might ruin the moment. She just nodded, and in the next moment, Rachel's lips crashed onto her own. 

It's been far too long. Touch-starved couldn't possibly describe Chloe's state of mind properly. She had almost forgotten how much she had craved Rachel's soft lips right on top of her own. She did not care that they had turned chapped, dry, rough. Temporary nuisances at best, Chloe thought, everything could be fixed. Rachel could be fixed. 

Chloe felt like she was treating Rachel like a helpless doll again. She had been strong and still was, only her batteries were empty for the moment. 

Rachel pulled away, worry drawn in her face. "Seriously, and don't think about me for a second, please," she said, "Are _you_ alright?" 

Lying seemed so easy now. Just saying everything was alright, then putting on a fake, halfway luscious smile, and getting back to that kiss would have solved so many headaches; but Rachel was a walking lie detector, a good one, too. Chloe figured, that if she wanted to be helpful and supporting without doting on Rachel, and without coming across as some white knight there to protect her from the world's every harm, she should give plain honesty a whirl. 

Why were the obviously right choices always the most uncomfortable ones?

"No," she admitted. The shitty feeling did not vanish, keeping her agitated and struggling to find words. Rachel waited patiently for her to elaborate. "I'm fucking scared," she finally said, "Scared this bloodlust wasn't a one time thing..." Her voice cracked. She gave up trying to list the thousand possibilities racing through her mind, all of which arose from the same little detail that had changed her life forever. 

She had murdered. 

They looked at each other for a long while. Nobody dared to make a move. The air seemed to crystallise into glass, strung with tension. It threatened to shatter into many sharp shards, which would surely cut them apart again. Unknowingly, Chloe was tightening her grip on Rachel's body. Her throat ran dry. She swallowed the pathetic piece of spit that was welling in her mouth. She craved another cigarette, but wasn't willing to let go of Rachel to grab one, too terrified to lose her again, to something she couldn't foresee, anything. 

Unable to bear the painful limbo any longer, she broke the silence. 

"Another time, okay?" she asked. It felt wrong to stave off the topic, but just like Rachel wasn't ready to talk about her experiences yet, Chloe couldn't make herself tackle her own. Rachel nodded in agreement, then kissed Chloe again, short but with purpose. It was a full stop after the sentence they had spun for themselves out of this situation. 

Now they were just torturing themselves. 

Rachel made a grimace, but she must have gained some more strength and managed to shuffle over next to Chloe in the seat all by herself. "Where are we going?" she asked curiously, changing the topic. 

Chloe wasn't sure she liked how fast Rachel was "recovering". "Shouldn't you get checked up in the hospital?" she asked. 

"Don't worry about that. What were you planning before I woke up?" 

"Rachel, you're..."

"Do _not_ worry about that!" Rachel's gaze pierced Chloe's eyes coldly. It scared her. She wanted to disregard Rachel's intent, worried for her health, but she did not dare to go against her either, lest she wanted to end up burning herself. Charred remains of a tree at the end of this road told what would wait for her should she go that route. She blew her cheeks up, and exhaled slowly. 

"Well, I wanted to check by the Junkyard, get the things I... we stored there, and then get the fuck out of this place," Chloe gripped the steering wheel tightly, "But I was getting doubts," she dropped her head onto the wheel as well, "Man, this whole thing makes me dizzy. I don't know what to do, really." 

A hand rubbed her back between her shoulder blades, gently. This felt so wrong. She shouldn't be the one receiving comfort! She should be the one giving comfort out! But it was plain impossible for her. And then there was this angel right here, who had just come out of literal hell, and somehow managed not to burn a single feather off her magnificent wings. They were enveloping Chloe's soul, giving her a sense of security in this mess. 

She had fallen in love with the most ferocious, courageous and untiring warrior on this earth, she was sure of it. Chloe looked at Rachel, tears welling in her eyes. "I don't know how you're doing it, but you're incredible, you know? I feel so damn lucky you have chosen to enter my life all those years back. And now," she had to pause, her voice was giving out. Rachel did not interrupt her, waiting patiently. "Now you came back to me again." 

She cried, but the smile wouldn't go away, like it was carved into her face. The steering wheel was her pillow, supporting her while she gazed at Rachel. She had given up the attempt to understand what was happening, and why. 

"You got me out of there," Rachel stated. The tiredness in her face could not be covered up, but she made it look like a minor bother in the ballpark of a chipped nail, or a missed bus. "I didn't move anywhere on my own. You were the one moving mountains to bring me back into the game." She wiped Chloe's cheek with her thumb, catching a tear on it's way down. " _You_ are incredible," she hummed. The admiration felt so warmly encircling, like an intimate embrace. Chloe did not feel worthy of it, but she wouldn't ever dare to push Rachel away like that. In fact she couldn't bear one more moment without her. Rachel pointed her finger at Chloe and bumped the tip of it into her nose. "I'm just trying to keep up with you." 

Chloe exploded into a belly laugh, even though there was nothing amusing about the situation. She must have looked like an insane maniac. Very fitting. It did not make sense. She was being irrational, and she knew it, but she did not care in the slightest. It would be a rocky journey, fixing their wounded spirits made out of seemingly bulletproof glass, riddled with all these cracks and holes that so many people have so casually busted in with their variety of chisels, pickaxes and battering rams made out of bitter words, expectations and pure dumbassery. Right now though, she felt like she could take on the world. They would become bulletproof again, together, the way it had always been until... they weren't anymore. 

Never again. 

"You're the worst," Chloe said when she found some air to use for her voice, "And I fucking love you so much." 

"I love you too," Rachel said, a smile like the sun on a summer day radiated it's heat towards the personified waterfall next to her. "Now floor it!" she ordered, "I can't stand to see this town any longer." 

Chloe got up from the steering wheel and started the engine again. She was more than happy to comply.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Randy Sensei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Randy_sensei) for the beta.
> 
> Let's say I rewatched BTS content while I was very drunk, and that very last mobile phone scene came up. Since I can't stomp the shit out of Jeffershit... I needed to live vicariously.
> 
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> (Little song snippet in the middle is "Counting Crows – All My Friends")


End file.
